


A Different Path

by GhostStone



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Big Brother Dean, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-05-31 09:29:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6464974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostStone/pseuds/GhostStone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first hunt that John Winchester takes after the failed shtriga hunt is supposed to be a simple salt and burn, but he fails to return to the motel when meant to. And with limited food sources and Sam getting sicker by the day, Dean is running out of options. He has to get help for his brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Father Lost

“I should only be gone three days—five at the most. You have enough food here already. You don’t take your eyes off of Sammy this time, you understand me?” Dean nodded seriously, glancing back to where Sam was curled up on the bed, fast asleep taking a nap. John eyed him for a few moments longer before leaving without a goodbye. Dean shut the door and slid the deadbolt into place, drawing a salt line across the door and checking all of the windows as well.

That was a week earlier. When three days had passed without word from their father, Dean had been unconcerned. He had taken care of Sammy for much longer times without issue. But then the fifth day came and passed and then the sixth without as much as a call or a message.

It was the seventh day since John had left them for a simple salt and burn. The drive was only seven hours. Dean was beginning to get anxious. Not so much for their father, but for Sammy. The thought in his mind, Dean glanced over to where his brother was curled up in their bed taking a nap. Then he glanced at the clock on the bedside table and saw that it was almost seven. “Sammy, wake up.”

“Dean?” Sam slurred, still drowsy.

“It’s suppertime.

Sam yawned and scrubbed at his eyes with his fists groggily. “Can I have Lucky Charms?”

 “You always want Lucky Charms.” Dean rolled his eyes and his tone was a bit harsh, but he made Sam a bowl of Lucky Charms anyway. “You have to get out of bed to eat though.” Sam groaned but climbed out of bed, keeping one of the blankets wrapped tightly around his shoulders. Dean shoved the bowl towards him. He was eating Lucky Charms himself tonight, not in the mood to make anything else. And also their favorite foods were starting to disappear. If their father did not return tonight, Dean would have to take an inventory of what they had.

After supper, Sam climbed back into bed and in minutes was sleeping again. Dean watched somewhat concernedly even as he did the dishes. Dean climbed into the other side of the bed to watch TV again. It was possible that their father would be back that night, and if he returned during the night, he wouldn’t be happy that Dean stole his bed. Without realizing it, Dean drifted off to sleep.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Dean was shaken awake. His first thought was that his father had returned and was angry for him not being alert, but then he realized that Sammy was still holding onto his sleeve. “Sammy?” An infomercial was playing on the television.

“I don’t feel good.” Sam said quietly.

Dean sighed. “Do you feel sick? Are you going to puke?” Sam shook his head. “Then what?”

“My chest hurts.”

“You’ve been coughing a lot. It’s just a cold, Sammy. Go back to sleep.” Dean watched as Sam curled tighter under the blankets and closed his eyes. Long after Sam fell asleep, Dean was still wide awake. He watched his little brother sleep for a long while. The last hunt, Dean had allowed Sammy to get hurt. He had slipped out and the shtriga had almost gotten him. It had been a month ago, and still Sam wasn’t quite healed. He hadn’t developed the deadly infection the other children had gotten, but he had picked up a cold a few days afterward, and Dean was certain the two events were related and that Sam’s cold was his fault. Their father had said as much, and it was true. He had been told not to let Sam out of his sight, yet he had disobeyed and Sam had almost been killed.

Sam coughed slightly in his sleep and shifted. Dean got out of the bed and went over to the thermostat, turning the heat up in the room, knowing that Sam had been chilled lately, but knew better than to complain.

He heard the heater kick in and went back to bed, laying on top of the covers. The room was already warm to him, and he didn’t know how Sam wasn’t burning up under all the blankets. Still, eventually Dean fell asleep again.

Dean didn’t wake up until late, and it surprised him that Sam hadn’t already woken him up. His little brother was usually an early riser, and would pester him until he gave him breakfast. Rolling over and stretching, Dean paused as he realized that Sam was still out. He reached out to wake Sam, but as his hand made contact with Sam’s shoulder, he froze. Sam was way too warm.

“Sammy! Sammy, wake up!”

His brother’s eyes opened. “Dean, I’m sick.”

“Yeah.” Dean agreed softly. “Does your chest still hurt?” Sam nodded. Unsure what to do, Dean walked over to where their food was and stared at it. They still had fruit—it was easy and didn’t take up space in the tiny motel fridges. Dean grabbed an orange and a glass of milk and returned to Sam.

“I don’t want fruit.” Sam complained, though he sipped at the milk.

Dean sighed. If Sam was going to be stubborn, there was nothing that could be done to get him to eat the fruit. “You are sick, Sammy. It will help you get better.” He peeled it and separated the slices, setting them on a plate and putting them on Sam’s lap who was now sitting against the headboard. Dean was out of his element. Injuries he could deal with. If Sam needed an ankle wrapped or a wound stitched, he could handle that, but sickness was something he didn’t know how to deal with. But with luck, his father would come home. He was already overdue and would be home any time now. Sam would be fine until then and their dad would be able to take care of Sam.

But lunchtime came and passed and then dinner, and by the time they got ready for bed, their father hadn’t showed up. Dean couldn’t sleep that night, he was too worried over Sammy. Worried that whatever illness the shtriga spread had been passed onto him. None of those children had survived—that was a point their dad had drilled into him after Sammy’s near miss. If this was the same illness, Sam might not make it. Dean wanted to call the hospital, but if this was a regular sickness, John would be furious. And without their father there, it would cause trouble. Adults didn’t like to see children left on their own. Normally Dean would have insisted that he was as capable as any adult with a kid—at least when that kid was Sammy, but at the moment he would give anything for an adult to take over and make Sam better.

Sam was restless, waking often, and he had curled up right next to Dean. Dean’s first reaction was to shove him away, but Sam looked so miserable that he found himself wrapping his little brother in his arms instead, pulling him close to his chest and clinging to him. Tears stung his eyes as he fought them away, forcing himself to be strong. He had to be strong for Sammy—especially if he was sick.

Dean drifted off a few times in the night, but for the most part he didn’t sleep much at all. Sam clung to him through the night, his closeness letting Dean know just how fevered his little brother was. Sam was like a heater against his chest, even though when he woke up a couple times during the night he complained of being cold.

The next morning, Sam ate fruit again without complaint which worried Dean more than if he had thrown a fit. John should have at least called by then, but Dean knew hunts were often busier than expected, and he didn’t want to read too much into it, but John had never gone so long without any communication before.

With Sam curled up on the bed, staring blankly at the TV, Dean walked over to their food. And sorted it. They still had most of a bag of oranges though those wouldn’t last much longer. He placed that in one pile. Those would be Sam’s. He would have one with every meal and hopefully that would help. Dean looked through the rest. They also had three cans of spaghettiOs, most of a box of Lucky Charms—though their milk was almost gone—half a jar of peanut butter, and a few slices of bread. It should be enough, but if their dad didn’t return in the next few days, they’d run out of food, and there was no way that Dean was leaving Sam alone again. Dean would eat less, just in case. Sam would need all his strength to fight the illness.

Four more days passed and their father had still not returned. Dean was becoming more miserable. Concerned about their food supply, he was now only eating a few spoonfuls of peanut butter a day and attempting to stave off his hunger by drinking too much water. Sam was sicker than before, too out of it to realize that Dean was starving himself. Sam was not very hungry and Dean had to force him to eat in the short times he was awake. And Sam’s fever had grown worse to the point where Dean had snatched away most of his blankets out of fear that Sam would get too hot.

Two weeks and three days after John left for the hunt, Sam ate the last of their food. Dean had not eaten anything in the last two days, trying to conserve their food for Sam. Dean shut himself in the bathroom, weeping frustrated tears and he forced himself to stay quiet so that Sam would not hear him crying as he tried to brainstorm what to do. Their father had never told him what to do in a situation like this, and Dean wasn’t about to give up on their dad.

A sudden thought struck Dean. When he was sorting their belongings, he had found seven dollars. There was a vending machine down the hall that he could get a few small food items from. He didn’t like the idea of leaving the room, but the door would still be in sight, and food was more important. Gathering control over his emotions, Dean gathered the money and slipped from the room. He searched the vending machine for the most food-like items and ended up buying five packages of cheese and cracker sandwiches. They weren’t exactly healthy of filling, but it would be better than candy.

As he slipped back into the room, Dean eyed the new food with longing before looking to Sam. Sam needed it more, but Dean needed something to keep him going. Opening one of the packages, Dean took out one of the three crackers and ate it. Eating the snack made everything worse as it reminded Dean just how hungry he was. Dean grabbed a glass and downed two full glasses of water and felt marginally better though there was still a sharp pain in his stomach. He grabbed another package and coaxed Sam to eat all three though he tried to refuse.

“Dean.” Sam whispered, starting to cough miserably and hold his chest. “It hurts!”

“I know, Sammy.” Dean replied just as quietly, taking his little brother’s hand tightly into his own. “Dad is going to come back and then he can take you to a hospital. It’ll be okay.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Sam rolled onto his side, pulling his knees to his chest. “Will you stay with me?”

In reply, Dean crawled into the bed beside Sam and carefully pulled his brother into his arms. Sam cuddled up against him, his body heat causing Dean’s mind to explode with worry.

Two more days passed, and Dean broke down completely. There was still one more package of crackers left—and Dean was determined that they be for Sam, but Sam wouldn’t wake up. It was over. He could no longer wait for their father to return. Sam needed help now. Taking care not to disturb Sam, Dean grabbed the phone, dialed a familiar number, and brought the phone to his ear.


	2. Chapter 2

_“Hello.”_ A well-known voice on the other end sounded and Dean let out a shaky breath.

“Pastor Jim?” Dean spoke softly. He coughed to clear his throat, but only ended up sobbing instead. “Dad hasn’t been around for three weeks, and he won’t answer the phone. Sammy is sick and so am I and I can’t leave, and even if I could I’m not old enough to buy medicine, and…” He started crying harder and couldn’t continue.

 _“Hey. Hey, Dean.”_ Jim spoke softly. _“Three weeks?”_ There was a long pause. _“Dean, is it okay if I send someone for you? I know a hunter down near you on a job. He can bring you up to my place while I figure out where your Dad is.”_

Dean sniffed, looking down at Sam. “He needs the password.”

 _“What password do you want me to give him?”_ As he considered the question, Dean fell silent. He usually liked choosing passwords, but at the moment he wasn’t really in the mood for anything. _“Dean?”_

“I don’t care.”

_“Alright. The password is…you know what, I’m not creative enough for this. I’m going to give you a number. The password is seventy-two. I’ll call you back if for some reason he can’t come, but he should be just a few hours away. You just sit tight there.”_

After saying goodbye, Dean hung up the phone and sat beside Sam. “Help is coming, Sam.” He said quietly, reaching out to grab his brother’s hand. “It’ll be okay.” Sam didn’t stir at all and Dean bit his lip, frustrated with his ability to control his emotions.

Three hours passed, and Dean began to grow anxious. What if Pastor Jim’s friend didn’t show up? He didn’t know what else to do. As he lost himself in worry, a knock startled him out of his thoughts. He walked over and stood on his toes to see through the peephole. “Password?” He demanded.

When he was given the correct password, Dean unlocked the door and stepped back, swinging up his sawed-off at the man who came through. The man raised his eyebrows, holding up his hands. “You want to put that away, kid?” Dean gestured to the table beside the door with his gun. The man looked and then snorted. Without ceremony, he grabbed the cup of water and took a drink before making a small cut on his wrist with the silver knife. “Anything else for me?”

“Not that I have in the room. I’m going to watch you though.”

“I bet.” The man smiled slightly at Dean’s glower. “My name is Bobby Singer. I hope you don’t mind me making you take the tests as well.”

Dean drank from the flask the man provided and had Sam drink some too. He took the knife and made a small cut before handing it back. “Sammy is good. He’s already sick, and I’m not going to hurt him more.” The man hesitated, but then looked over at the child curled on the bed again and sighed.

“He okay?”

Unbidden, Dean’s eyes filled with tears again. The man looked slightly panicked. “I think he needs the hospital, but…”

“Yeah?” Bobby walked over to the bed, and Dean stiffened, placing himself between his brother and the stranger. “I’m not going to hurt him, kid. You’re Dean, right? Look, I came here because I owe Jim, and he said the two of you needed help. But I can’t help if I can’t see what is wrong. Let me see your brother?” Dean hesitated before crawling onto the bed beside Sam, letting Bobby close, but still in a good position to protect him if needed.

“Sammy, Bobby is going to help you, alright?” His little brother woke up and let out a pitiful whine, glancing up at Bobby with fear in his eyes. “It’s alright. I’m going to be right next to you the whole time. I promise.”

Sam reached out and Dean caught his hand, clinging to it for his own comfort as much as for Sam’s. Under close scrutiny, Bobby reached out and rested the back of his hand against Sam’s forehead before swearing. “Yeah, hospital it is.” He said, and Dean felt his heart pounding in his chest at the confirmation of how sick Sam was. “Alright, boys, we need a cover story since I have no ID for any of us. I’m a family friend—no relation. You didn’t call Jim, you called me. As soon as I heard, I came down immediately and brought you to the hospital which is what I’m going to do right now. Alright?” Dean nodded, but Sam simply blinked up at him blearily. “Let’s go.” He suddenly paused. “Dean, I don’t think your brother is fit to walk. Are you going to shoot me if I carry him to the car?”

Dean scowled, but shook his head, climbing off the bed and putting on his shoes. He watched carefully as Bobby picked Sam up, but it was done gently, and Sam didn’t fuss, so Dean let it be. Bobby walked outside and placed Sam in the cab of an old pickup truck. “You going to ride in back with him?” Instead of answering, Dean slipped into the seat beside his brother and held him close.

They rode to the hospital in silence, and Bobby parked near the emergency room entrance before gathering Sam up into his arms again. Dean stuck close to his side, every so often reaching up to feel for Sam as if to reassure himself that Sam was okay.

At the intake desk, a rather tired looking receptionist looked at the three of them and handed them a clipboard with questions. After taking their names, she told them that they would be called soon and to give the completed paperwork then. Bobby took it and then sat down. He moved to set Sam on the seat next to him, but the child clung tightly and he sighed, letting the boy sit on his lap instead. Both the children smelled of sickness.

“Dean, can you fill out your information?” Dean took the clipboard and hesitated. “Real names, I think.” He spoke softly. Dean glanced up but then nodded unsurely, filling out what he could.

“You got papers for both of us.” Dean said quietly.

Bobby gave him a sad smile. “You look like hell, kid. We’ll make sure your brother gets seen first. Just fill it out.”

Around fifteen minutes later they were called into a small office where a nurse greeted them. “What are you here for today?” She asked, taking the paperwork. “Both the boys?” She questioned.

“Sam first.” Bobby responded, looking down at the boy curled in his arms. “I’m…uh…not their father. I’m a family friend. Their dad is a traveling mechanic—works on old cars especially. I think something must have happened, but he never returned to the motel they were staying at. They…I think that they kept hoping he would show up. I got a call yesterday from Dean and came straight down. Then I brought them both here. I don’t have their insurance or ID, but I can give you the number of someone who can probably get you that if you need it right now, but I dropped everything to get to them.”

“We’ll deal with all that later.” The nurse responded. “He doesn’t look so well. What are his symptoms?”

Dean sniffed and looked near tears again. “He’s had a cold for about two months, but in the last two weeks he’s been getting sicker, he says his chest hurts, and he has a fever, and I didn’t know what to do!” Dean was almost yelling at the end and was in crying again. Bobby loosened one arm to lightly grip the boy’s shoulder in reassurance and Dean ended up leaning into it, looking decidedly miserable.”

The nurse looked extremely sympathetic and grabbed a thermometer and checked Sam’s temp by his ear. She looked grim. “104.3.” She told Bobby at his questioning look. As she took a few more tests, her expression grew more serious. “I’m going to bump you up to the top of our waiting list and go ahead and page our pulmonary specialist. We’ll get him back there as soon as possible. Now how about your turn.” She said, turning to Dean. She took his temperature, and while it was a bit elevated, it wasn’t immediately alarming like Sam’s. His pulse was concerning though, causing the nurse to ask him how he was feeling. Dean gave her a sullen look and didn’t reply. “Alright, a few more questions and a doctor should be ready to see your brother. Have you been dizzy at all?”

When Dean hesitated, Bobby squeezed his shoulder. “Truth, Dean.” Dean gave a single petulant nod. The nurse made a note. “Do you have pain anywhere?”

Dean looked down, his eyes tightly pressed together. “I’m just tired and hungry.” He finally said. “It’s Sammy that needs a doctor, not me. We are wasting time.”

“Okay.” The nurse said quietly, understanding that Dean wasn’t going to be cooperative. “We’ll figure it out after your brother is seen to, okay?” Dean nodded. They returned to the waiting room with the promise that they would be seen to immediately. Only a few minutes passed, when a nurse opened the door.

“Sam Winchester?” She called. Bobby stood and followed.

“Dean is still on the list to be seen to, but he’ll be coming with us. That okay?” His tone left it not really a question. The nurse nodded anyway and brought them back and got Sam settled on a hospital cot and hooked him up to the monitors. Bobby didn’t know what any of the numbers mean really, but from the nurse’s expression, none of them were good.

The next few hours passed in a blur as many different doctors and nurses came by. Dean seemed to be almost forgotten by them in the attention Sam was receiving, and Bobby kept an eye on his just in case. He seemed to be staying awake out of sheer willpower. Finally one of the nurses tried to coax him to leave his brother’s side, and Dean started throwing what Bobby could only consider a tantrum. The nurses couldn’t get him to calm, and Bobby decided to try his hand, hoping Dean wouldn’t out him as a total stranger in his fury.

“Dean, you’re upsetting Sam.” Those simple words seemed to be the right ones, and Dean went silent, glancing over where Sam was moving restlessly. “You can’t take care of him if you’re sick. How about I promise to stay with him if you let the doctors take a look at you.” Dean frowned, but then seemed to lose all of his fight. “Now you be honest about what’s wrong or it’s going to take longer for you to get better and see Sammy again, you understand?”

The boy gave a nod, and Bobby felt a wave of compassion at the helplessness in the child’s eyes. Dean had wrote that he was twelve years old on the paperwork—too young to be looking after his brother in Bobby’s eyes. Dean let himself be led away and Bobby sighed.

It turned out that both boys needed to stay in the hospital. Sam was by far the worst off, and had a bad case of pneumonia. He was now hooked up to a lot of monitors and an IV. The doctors had informed Bobby that Dean had admitted to not having anything to eat for approximately the last two weeks in order that his brother would have enough food and also the boy had likely not really slept in about as long. Dean was belligerent and tried to fight his way back to see Sam. After a while of arguing and persuading, it was decided that Dean would not rest without sedation unless he was with his brother, and Sam had been asking for him anyway, so the two brothers were given a shared room if Dean promised to rest.

Bobby sat between the two beds in the room on a chair, cursing John Winchester for what his boys were going through, Jim Murphy for sending him to deal with the mess, and himself for already beginning to get attached to the two boys sleeping on either side of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions to improve my writing or the story. Thanks for reading!
> 
> (P.S. I suck at tags. Help!)


	3. Chapter 3

It had been a very long night. It was almost eight in the morning now, and the boys had been settled into their shared room for almost three hours, and Bobby had only managed about one hour of sleep even after he had persuaded the doctors to allow him to stay for the remainder of the night. He knew they had only allowed it since he was the only one seemingly able to reason with Dean. The elder brother was utterly paranoid. Bobby was sure it was in part due to his weakness from malnutrition and exhaustion, but he also knew that a large part could probably be attributed to John Winchester. Either way, the boy had decided that between the doctors and Bobby, he at least knew that Bobby was no creature or demon. He had thrown a fit when Bobby first moved to leave, and the doctors had relented.

Dean was expected to be fit to be released within the next day or two, but after proving his stomach could not hold food well after the time without, he had been given an IV and the doctors were working on getting him healthy again. He was also exhausted enough that he hadn’t woken at all since he had fist allowed himself to drift off. The doctors were also watching to ensure he did not become ill after his extended exposure to Sam. Bobby couldn’t help but respect the boy for how much he was willing to sacrifice for his little brother. He knew a lot of adults who would be willing to give a lot less than that boy did without thought. It made him hate John Winchester a little more when he wondered just how such protective instincts had been rooted in his son. He didn’t doubt that Dean had much more to do with raising Sam than their father did.

The doctors were still worried about Sam. He was sleeping reasonably peacefully at the moment, but nasty coughing fits woke him fairly often. He had been connected to oxygen almost immediately after first being examined, and the tubes made Bobby feel a strong urge to protect the boy. His fever had yet to drop more than a marginal amount and he was very weak. Bobby had been told that Sam was out of immediate danger, but it was possible that he could still take a turn for the worse. Sam looked impossibly tiny on the hospital bed.

His phone suddenly rang, and Bobby fumbled for it, swearing as he tried to silence it quickly before it woke Sam or Dean. “Hello.” He answered quietly, keeping his voice low.

_“Bobby, do you have the boys?”_

Abruptly realizing that he had not called Jim since before reaching town, Bobby glanced at both of the children. Neither had woken by the call. “Yeah, I have them. They weren’t well though, either of them. I brought them in to the emergency room last night. Dean should be fine, but Sam is still very sick. He isn’t in any immediate danger, but he will be here for a few days at least.”

_“You’ll stay with them for the moment?”_ Bobby grunted in affirmation. _“Hospital means paperwork. What do you need?”_

Bobby glanced around to make sure no one was able to hear. “Thought that real names would be best in this situation.”

_“Good move. That makes everything easier. Have you talked to the police yet?”_

“Police?”

_“The doctors know those boys have been on their own for three weeks. You should expect the police to come to ask about John. Just admit to knowing nothing. Give them my number if you need to. I’d stick as close to the truth as possible on this one. I have a feeling that there isn’t going to be a happy ending for this.”_ Bobby had been having the same feeling. The chances that John would come out of this alive was slimmer every day he failed to appear. _Another hunter is in the area. His name is Caleb. He knows John, and I’ll give you his number in case you need it, but he’s going to be there to see if he can’t find out what John was hunting and what happened to him. He’s trying to go unnoticed—especially for when the police begin searching—but if you need something he’s there. And I had him go make sure the motel room wasn’t suspicious. He cleared out the weapons and cleaned up the salt and other protections so it won’t look suspect._

Dean groaned in his sleep and turned slightly, but didn’t seem to wake at all. Bobby watched him for a few more moments as he settled again. “I’ll stick close to the boys and keep my eyes open for anything off. It’d look suspicious if I ditched now anyway. The doctors are probably going to want more information on the boys today. Do you know them well enough for that?”

_“John made sure I had enough on them in case something happened. Just give them my number.”_ There was a pause. _Thank you for looking after them, Bobby. Those boys are important to me.”_

“They seem like good kids. I think the doctor is coming by again. I’ll call you later.” Bobby hung up the phone.

The door swung open and Bobby saw he was right. Dr. Elliot, the main doctor overseeing the boys came in and gave each a quick check up. “Have either of them woken up at all?”

“Dean moved a bit, but I don’t think he woke up. And Sam is still coughing every once in a while. I don’t think he has woken up at all yet though.”

The doctor nodded and made a few notes. He moved back to Sam’s side and looked down at the child for a few long moments.

“How is he doing?” Bobby asked.

”He is not yet responding to treatment as we had hoped. His oxygen levels are still low.” D. Elliot looked over at Bobby. “His condition is fairly serious. If he gets any worse we might have to move him to intensive care.”

“And Dean?”

“He will be fine. I don’t suspect he will wake for a long while yet. When he does we will be see if he is capable of feeding himself. If he is, he can be released from our care. We have contacted the police department about their father’s disappearance. An officer should be here soon to speak with you.”

Bobby nodded, letting the doctor finish up and leave. He sat in silence for the next thirty minutes or so until a soft cry caused him to turn toward the younger of the brothers. Sam was clearly trapped in an unpleasant dream. His face was contorted slightly into a slight grimace. He reached out, taking the boy’s tiny hand in his own. “It’s alright, Sam. You’re safe here.” The boy murmured something inaudible, his hand radiating heat in Bobby’s. “You’re gonna be okay, kid.” Sam shifted and sighed in his sleep, slipping deeper into unconsciousness even as his hand tightened around Bobby’s.

 It turned out being about another hour before a knock on the door caused Bobby to look up. A young-looking police officer was standing in the doorway, her eyes lingering on the boys. Every hunters’ instinct in Bobby was telling him to run from law enforcement, but the boys needed the care of the hospital, and it was too late to start lying more now. And he had always been careful not to fall under the notice of the law like other hunters had a tendency to do. He liked his salvage yard and being settled down, and didn’t fancy being on the run or having to switch identities every other year to remain without being chased.

“Please come in.” He said softly with a smile. “I’d stand to greet you, but I’m afraid that Sam has a grip on me.” Sam still clung to his hand in sleep, and though he did wish to get up and go for a walk to stretch his legs, he couldn’t bring himself to deny the child whatever comfort it was giving him.

She smiled in return, watching Sam for a moment as he slept. “How are the boys doing?”

Bobby looked past Sam’s bed over to Dean who was also out of it. “Dean is going to be okay, but Sam’s not out of the woods yet. He has pneumonia, and the doctors are concerned. Dean has a bit of a cold they are watching carefully, but he’s mostly just exhausted and malnourished. He’d been giving up his food for Sam.” From the woman’s expression, he knew he already had her sympathy. He felt a bit of guilt using the boy’s plight to gain the officer’s sympathy, but it was the truth anyway, and it never hurt to have people—especially people with power—endeared to you. “Bobby Singer.”

“Officer Elliot.” She said. “Mainly I’m here to get the details in order to file a missing person’s report. We’ll also need to get the boys’ information and figure out what will happen with them if the worst comes to pass.”

Giving her a brief nod, Bobby sighed. “I’d like to do as much of this as possible on my own. Dean has been through enough, and he’s still exhausted. You’ll need to talk to the doctor to see if it’s alright to wake him up at all.”

“May I take a seat?”

“Go ahead.”

She sat down and then pulled out a pad. “Why don’t you walk me through from the beginning and then I’ll ask questions to clarify?”

Bobby took a breath and prepared himself. “Yesterday afternoon I received a call from Dean. I was only a couple of hours away. He told me that John hadn’t been around for three weeks and that Sam was sick. As soon as I heard I came over to where they were staying and saw the boys. I brought them straight here and haven’t left. I’m sorry that I don’t know more.”

“How well do you know John?”

After a few moments, Bobby had put together an answer. “I’m a friend.” He quickly spun an idea in his head. “I own a salvage yard out near Sioux Falls, South Dakota, and John’s a mechanic. I haven’t seen them in a while before this. I’m afraid I don’t know what kind of job he was working on out here. I don’t know much, but I can give you the number of someone who might.” He was purposefully on how they met in case something came up when she was speaking with Jim or one of the boys.

“Please.” She said and then copied down Jim’s number as Bobby recited it. She hesitated. “It would be very helpful to be able to speak to Dean. I am going to ask the doctor if that is possible. Do you know the name of the attending physician?”

“Dr. Elliot.” She left the room and then returned a minute later. “Dr. Elliot gave me permission to ask Dean a few questions. He gives a maximum of five minutes and wishes you to monitor Dean and decide if he is being overwhelmed.”

Bobby sighed and carefully extricated his hand from Sam’s grip before moving to Dean. “Dean.” He called softly. When Dean only shifted slightly in his sleep, Bobby tried again, this time shaking the boy’s shoulder lightly. “Dean, come on, kid. Wake up.” Dean blinked sleepily, his eyes immediately fixing on Bobby and then going wide with panic.

“Sammy!” He blurted worriedly.

“He’s doing okay, kid. Look to your right. He’s right there.” Dean did and his eyes fixed on Sam. “He’s not quite better yet, but he is not any worse. The doctors are taking good care of him.” Dean finally relaxed a bit more and Bobby gave him a small smile. “There is an officer here to ask you some questions about your Dad.” Dean’s gaze returned to him, demanding further explanation. “They want to put out a missing person’s report to help find him.” Dean bit his lip slightly before giving a small nod. “I’ll be right here.”

He was glad the boy was clearly able to maintain a cover, for Bobby was still virtually a stranger, yet Dean was treating him as if they did know each other. Bobby nodded for the officer to begin.

“Dean, can you tell me exactly what day you last saw your father?”

“A Saturday.” Dean answered immediately. “I don’t know the date exactly, but it was the first week of June.”

She wrote that down. “Have you had any contact with him at all since?” A slight head shake. “Alright. Do you happen to know what kind of car your father drives?”

“He drives a black 1967 Chevy Impala.” She looked surprised at his exactness and Dean glanced down. “I like cars. My Dad teaches me to work on them.”

She was smiling slightly at him, but Bobby had seen something she had not. Dean had suddenly grown grim. “Do you know the license plate?”

“BYP 3N6.” He answered.

“Do you know where your Dad was headed?”

Dean hesitated. “I don’t know any specifics. He had a job in town.”

“You don’t happen to remember what he was wearing that day, do you?”

“I don’t know.” There was a slight glimmer of tears in his eyes. “In my backpack—at the motel—I have a family picture. You’ll need that, right?” She gave him a nod. “But I’ll get it back?”

She gave him a sad smile. “I’ll, make a copy and make sure it gets straight back to you.” She asked for the name and number of the hotel room and then a few more questions before she said she had enough from Dean. “Mr. Singer, may I speak to you outside for a minute?” He nodded and walked out into the hall, shutting the door. “Sir, I need you to be honest with me. Is there any chance that Mr. Winchester might have left?”

“Left the boys?” Bobby clarified. “No. No chance.” He replied.

“I had to ask. We’ll keep you informed about updates in the case.”

“Thank you.” Bobby suddenly paused. If they were doing this the legal way then there was another thing to consider. “Dean might be released late today or tomorrow. Will there be a problem with me keeping him with me?”

She frowned for a moment. “I don’t foresee it being a problem if everything you have told me checks out. Once both boys are released and we have investigated John Winchester’s disappearance, then it might change. However, you wouldn’t be allowed to leave the area with Dean.”

“Dean wouldn’t let me take him away from his brother, anyway.” Bobby answered with a smile. “Thank you.” Once she had left, Bobby reentered the room to find that Dean was still awake, waiting. “How are you feeling?”

There was a brief pause before Dean answered. “I’m okay.”

Bobby gave him a searching look. He was barely holding himself together. He reached over to clasp the boy’s shoulder comfortingly. Dean was shaking slightly. “Kid, it’s alright not to be okay. I think being in the hospital pretty much means you’re not okay.”  Dean looked awake. “Why don’t you go back to sleep for a while longer? I’ll keep an eye on your little brother for you.”

“You’ll tell me if the police find anything?”

“Of course. You should rest, Dean.”

Bobby sat with Dean until he managed to fall asleep again before rising to go find himself some food.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean didn’t wake again until late afternoon, but once he woke he managed to eat some jello and had a glass of apple juice. Upon keeping it down, the doctors had given Bobby a list of instructions to care for Dean while he recovered, and Dean had been released into Bobby’s care. They were now both sitting beside Sam’s bed in rather uncomfortable chairs, but as dinnertime neared, Bobby knew he needed to take the boy to get some real food, but getting the child to leave his brother’s side was no doubt going to be a challenge.

“Dean—” He began.

“No.” The boy snapped immediately and Bobby sighed. Dean lifted his head to glare at him. “Look, I know what you are going to say, and the answer is no. I’m not leaving Sammy. He’s not safe here alone.”

There was the protectiveness again. Bobby wondered just how many times John had drilled that into Dean for it to be his first and last thought every moment. He watched Dean for a few moments before he responded. “Dean, none of the attacks happened in a hospital.” Seeing the kid’s expression, it was obvious that logic wasn’t going to be enough.  “If you refuse to leave here to eat, the doctors will likely force the two of us from this room. Your health is important to them as well.”

After a few long moments, Dean bit his lip slightly. “I’ll go to the hospital cafeteria. No farther.”

“Alright.” Bobby relented. He stood and gestured for Dean to get up as well. The kid did so rather sullenly, but his attitude wasn’t important at the moment. Bobby had expected Dean to be much more recalcitrant, but assumed the thought of being banned from his little brother was probably what caused Dean to see the logic in listening. He felt a brief wave of guilt at resorting to that threat, but pushed it away. If it got Dean to eat that was enough.

The two of them walked down to the cafeteria in silence together. When they arrived, Dean immediately reached for foods that he wasn’t yet allowed, but upon Bobby’s chastising look gave a glower and instead dished himself a bowl of the chicken and rice soup. Bobby got a plate of his own and they claimed a table. “Don’t eat fast just to get back to your brother. If you make yourself sick the doctors will be all over you again.” He received another scowl and Dean began to eat his soup. Despite himself, Bobby felt a small smile take over his face.

Dean quickly scarfed down his meal at then watched with very clear irritation as Bobby finished his meal at a more sedate pace. As soon as Bobby was finished, Dean was back on his feet and they returned to Sam. After a few minutes of sitting beside the boy, he moved slightly and yawned.

“Dean?” Sam asked quietly, his voice anxious.

“I’m right here, Sammy.” It didn’t escape Bobby’s notice that it was Dean that Sam looked for when distressed, not his father.

After a while longer, Bobby sighed, ready for another fight. It was almost eight o’clock and he was exhausted. The doctors had allowed them to stay longer than normal due to Dean’s clear need to see his brother well along with wishing to supervise Dean’s first few meals, but now it was time for them to leave for the night.

“I got us a motel room across the street.” Bobby said quietly.

“I’m not going.”

Bobby sighed. “Dean, that’s not an option. You need rest, and visiting hours end in an hour. The doctors are already bending rules by letting you stay so long.”

“He’ll be alone.”

“The doctors will be looking after him and we will be right across the street. It’s safe here, Dean. You have to trust that the doctors can help him more than we can.”

Dean suddenly stood, bumping a table and causing a pen to clatter to the floor. “If they are helping him so much then why hasn’t he gotten any better!” Dean was yelling now. “You said they’d help, but Sam is just as sick as before!” A few nurses came in to see what the noise was about.

Bobby grabbed his shoulders lightly. “Dean. Dean, you have to calm down or they aren’t going to let you be with your brother. He needs rest.” A glance at Sam showed that the yelling hadn’t woken the boy, and that was worrying in itself. Not knowing what else to do, Bobby pulled Dean into a tight hug and held him. Dean struggled at first, trying to get away, but after a few moments he went still and then started crying quietly. Bobby rubbed his back gently and gave an apologetic smile to the nurses. After a few more moments, Bobby moved to hold Dean at an arm’s length. Why don’t you say goodnight to your brother. We’ll come back first thing tomorrow morning to visit, alright?” Dean didn’t answer, but pulled away and hovered over his brother for a minute before carefully adjusting his blankets.

“Good night, Sammy.” He said softly. Bobby dropped his hand onto the boy’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. Deal allowed himself to be led to the motel where he climbed into a bed almost immediately.

“I’ll see about getting your stuff tomorrow, alright?” Dean shrugged and buried himself under the covers. With a sigh, Bobby went and showered before getting into the other bed. He fell asleep almost immediately, the previous sleepless night had already caught up with him about three hours earlier. He was not young enough anymore to pull all-nighters without feeling them the next day.

He should have expected that the worst was not behind him. His phone woke him up at 5am, blaring loudly as he fumbled for it and quickly silenced it. It was the hospital. Bobby swore under his breath and looked over at Dean. The boy as curled up facing him and still fast asleep, clearly exhausted still.

“Bobby Singer.” He answered quietly. “Is Sam okay?”

There was a moment of hesitation. _“His fever got worse overnight. He had a seizure and we’ve moved him to the ICU.”_

“A seizure?” Bobby echoed worriedly.

_“It’s not terribly uncommon in children with fevers as high as his and we don’t think you don’t need to worry this time. We’ve got his fever down a little.”_ Bobby looked over at Dean again. The kid was still fast asleep. _“Pediatric patients in the ICU are allowed to have their parents with them at all times if you wish. We understand the situation and that you aren’t his father, but the exception has been made. It is really good for them to have someone familiar with them when they wake up. He was pretty frightened earlier.”_

“What about his brother? Dean’s twelve, but he’s been taking care of Sam for the last three weeks. I can’t leave him alone either.”

_“Give me a minute.”_ Bobby was transferred to call-waiting music and rolled his eyes. About four minutes later the phone clicked. _“In this situation, Dean will be allowed to visit, though if he becomes a problem he’ll have to leave.”_

“Understood.” Dean looked terribly young to have to deal with all of this. “Is Sam asleep right now? Dean is still out of it, and I’d like for him to get as much rest as possible while he can.”

_“Sam is sleeping. Seizures usually cause some fatigue afterwards and it would surprise me if he woke up soon. You need to take care of Dean, too. Do whatever you think is best for the boys. Sam isn’t in any immediate danger.”_

“Alright. Thanks.” After the call ended, Bobby sighed. This whole trip was becoming worse yet he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. The two boys had needed someone, and he had been close by. Now that it was too late to back out, he had to keep taking care of them until…something. Bobby wasn’t sure what the end to this would be even if Sam was released. The brothers’ father was missing, and a hunter going missing was rather unlikely to be found alive.

It was another two hours before Dean stirred. It was rather earlier than Bobby expected, but Dean yawned and opened his eyes, seemingly startled for a moment before he remembered where he was. The why came an instant later and he sat up. “Can we go see Sammy, now?”

Bobby debated telling Dean right then, but once Dean heard he would be impossible to reason with. “Shower first, and then we are going to take a taxi over to the motel you were staying at to get your clothes.” The boy’s lips drew into an obstinate pout. “You are dirty.” Bobby said calmly. “Please don’t argue, Dean.”

Five minutes later, the boy was out of the shower, and Bobby was willing to accept that as a success. He called a taxi and soon they were at the motel, loading the boys’ things into his truck which was still parked right outside their room. None of Dean’s clothes were actually clean, something Bobby hadn’t really considered, but he found a relatively clean outfit—maybe only worn once before—and Dean changed into that.

When they were in the truck outside the hospital, Bobby took a deep breath. “Look, kid, I need to tell you something, alright?” Dean glanced up at him warily. “Sam’s fever got a bit worse overnight.” Dean went pale and Bobby decided to leave off the bit about the seizure until Dean saw his brother. “He’s been moved to the Intensive Care Unit, but he’s okay for the moment, alright?”

“You should have told me right away!” Dean reached for the car handle, and Bobby grabbed his wrist in a firm grip.

“If I had told you right away you wouldn’t have showered or got the rest you needed. Now, an exception is being made for you to be able to stay with Sam, so you have to be on your best behavior. If you yell again or anything like that, they can take away that privilege. Understand?” Dean nodded.

“Now can I see Sam?”

Bobby suppressed a snort at the boy’s singlemindedness. “Yeah. Let’s go see your brother.”

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so here are some notes:  
> 1) Please feel free to point out inconsistencies and typos so that I can fix them. I appreciate all critiques.  
> 2) I have no idea what to do with tags. Seriously, if you think there are tags I should add, please let me know.  
> 3) Suggestions are always welcome.


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